


Day In Day Out

by Bhelryss



Series: FE Rarepair Week 2017 [4]
Category: Fire Emblem: Shin Ankoku Ryuu to Hikari no Ken | Fire Emblem: Shadow Dragon, Fire Emblem: Shin Monshou no Nazo | Fire Emblem: New Mystery of the Emblem
Genre: F/F, domesticity..., prompt: shade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 02:15:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11681913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bhelryss/pseuds/Bhelryss
Summary: Fire Emblem "Rarepair" Week: Day FourPrompt: ShadeShip: Minerva/Palla





	Day In Day Out

Palla comes back from the first war a hero. Her and her White Wing sisters and her princess. Est disappears, and with their princess’ blessing, they follow. They come back war heroes, twice over. And then, after even that, there is yet another war, and all of them again, are war heroes. They are professional knights, soldiers for their country, and that doesn’t break them. They are exhausted, however, and tired of war and blood and death.

Minerva too, though her hands are covered in the blood of her brother instead of the wear from a third war. 

They’re all tired. They’re all ready to rest. Just for a little while, because while Macedon’s monarchy might have been handed to Marth willingly, the people still looked to their royal family first. MInerva would not abandon them even if every part of her would have preferred to run screaming into the wilds of The One Kingdom of Valentia, never to be heard from again. Though she would never do that. 

Instead, between meeting her people’s needs and helping Marth with his new empire, Minerva retires to her new home. It’s small, compared to what she grew up in. Small and a little dirty. The walls aren’t pristine, and there are no hordes of servants there to wash away every speck of dirt. There is a porch, and two rocking chairs. Not her choice, but they came with the place.

She does not sit in them and watch the sun set. 

Inside the house the walls are colored easy, gentle colors. Minerva did not pick those either. Her main contribution to her home is the scuffs on the floor from boots, and the stables on the land behind the house. Her dragon lairs there, nowadays, unwilling to be parted from her. Sometimes pegasi come to visit, it depends on who has come. 

Palla has her own room, though most nights she spends in Minerva’s room. Est and Catria have their room also, though they’ve never stayed more than one or two nights in row. Palla is there most days, actually. She does not follow Minerva to her meetings, her duties. Not usually. Not unless asked, or invited. 

So she whiles away her off hours entertaining herself. Palla starts a garden, out in front of the porch, so the flowers were right in view of the rocking chairs. When she returns to her knighthood, she still comes home in the evenings and smiles at Minerva, and sits in the rocking chairs in front of the garden.

It’s just tilled soil, seeds newly sown, but she spends a few sunsets a week thinking about flowers and herbs and Minerva in a wide-brim hat holding a drink with her muscles out on display. She might giggle, and Minerva might ask her what’s funny from the kitchen. Palla will deny that anything’s funny, and she’ll continue rocking in her chair as the shaded porch grows dimmer. The sun sets, the sun rises, and Palla goes to work.

Minerva greets her knight with a kiss, and dinner. As the months turn to years, Minerva’s culinary skill improves from a draco knight’s hard and fast fireside meals to things that require a more deft hand. She still works with her dragon and with Marth, and Palla still works within the state of Macedon as a knight, and the two of them are content. 

Summer comes again, and Palla’s garden has expanded. She’s too busy to tend it much, but Minerva cannot abide the mess of weeds amongst their plants, and so she’s taken it over, as she has much of the basic upkeep for the home. The flowers are tall, easily reaching up to Minerva’s hips, and she wades in among the greenery armed with a spade and thick gloves like she is expecting an ambush. 

Her dragon watches from the shade of the tree in the front yard, and Minerva has her arms exposed to the sun but her face shielded by a wide brimmed hat.

Palla comes home to see Minerva pressing fingers into a sunburn and frowning. Holding a drink, face shaded by the porch overhead, Palla’s muscles are the ones on display. Minerva pulls a long sleeved, gauzy shirt over her reddened skin, and smiles at Palla so gratefully. She kisses Palla briefly, and then they watch the sun set over the garden.

Minerva does not sit in the rocking chair, though Palla has no such reservations. They don’t touch too much, mindful of sunburns, but still they are together when the day ends. And when the sun rises, beginning the next day, they are together. And in the shade of the trees out front and under the porch, and in between duties, they are together.

It’s a good life, and they regret nothing except perhaps when a hungry pegasus or a playful dragon tramples the gardens they try building in the back of the house. 


End file.
